


found a calling as sweet as a lover

by flesh (calculus)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crossdressing, Crying, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Series, Praise Kink, Rimming, School Festivals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 01:58:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7665928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calculus/pseuds/flesh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asahi just wants Daichi to come visit his school festival. Everything else is just gravy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	found a calling as sweet as a lover

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Belgium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belgium/gifts), [mordor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mordor/gifts).



> im sorry
> 
> also pls picture asahi in this [dress](http://www.cosypajamas.com/uploadfile/products/20121104/French-Maid-Dress-Costume-MD015.jpg) for optimal viewing

“ _Well,_ ” Daichi says dryly, “this certainly isn’t anywhere close to what I’d been imagining.”

In front of him, Asahi can only cry silently to himself in despair, his frilly broad shoulders hunched in as if to hide himself, resigned to his fate.

* * *

He doesn’t bring it up until they’re both well and on their way to falling asleep, the first time. It’s past one, Daichi’s got about two dozen small-print pages of economic theory to power through before seven tomorrow, but Asahi’s been chewing on this thought for over a month now. He takes a breath, lets himself relax into the firm mattress that Daichi had insisted on for Asahi’s creeping back pain, and rolls over into Daichi’s side, taking care to hide his face into the other boy’s exposed neck.

“If this is an attempt to get into my pants, I want you to look at the clock again and come back during opening hours,” Daichi grumbles, halfheartedly batting Asahi away. But he shifts towards Asahi, belying his words, latching onto his torso with a furled grip. Asahi hides the twitching fondness swelling up and the immediate flush of his cheeks against the warm skin of Daichi’s throat and takes a moment to nuzzle in, inhaling the clean scent of soap and laundry detergent that sank in Daichi’s skin from the boy’s earlier cleaning spree. Daichi grunts and scrapes his chin against Asahi’s forehead and curls in closer, raising up a skin-hot hand to cup against his loose hair.

“Seriously, if you don’t say what’s on your mind in the next five seconds, the shop’s closing for good, come again tomorrow,” Daichi says, nudging Asahi under the sheets with a foot to say what’s on his mind.

Asahi’s caught now, stuck between letting the thought go and sinking into the safe comfort of Daichi’s arms and the call of sleep and getting the worry that’s been gnawing at his chest out. The scale tips as Daichi reaches down and noses him into a close-mouthed kiss, and Asahi sighs into it, closing his eyes.

“There’s a daigaku-sai coming up on the twenty-fifth,” he murmurs against his lips, voice soft and hesitant. Daichi hums and kisses him again before pulling away, opening an eye to measure the boy’s expression. Despite the darkness and the drawn curtains over the window, his sight adjusts fair enough from the spilled-over street lights to catch the furrowing between Asahi’s brows and the shadows falling over the unhappy tilt of his soft mouth.

Ducking down his head, Daichi nips Asahi on the nose before kissing his furrowed brows until they smooth out, and feels around until he finds Asahi’s curled fingers. He brings them up and makes sure Asahi watches the best he can in the dark room, and kisses fingertip after fingertip, knowing Asahi’s already dying inside from the sudden affection. He chuckles and flicks his tongue out, relishing the sudden yelp squeaking past Asahi’s mouth.

“You’re such an idiot,” Daichi says, fondness thick in his throat. Asahi whines and headbutts him gently, gripping his hands tightly. “You want me to come to your festival? All you have to do is ask, dummy.”

Asahi makes a noise and Daichi snickers, bussing kisses over his pouting face. “I can’t just assume you’ll say yes or anything! I have to think of your schedule too,” Asahi argues, brows furrowing again. Daichi hums, slipping a kiss behind his ticklish ears, and Asahi yelps again. “S-seriously!”

“You can ask me to anything you want, Asahi,” Daichi says finally, pulling back far enough so that Asahi can make out his face. He pulls away a hand to tweak Asahi’s nose before shuffling them around so that Asahi’s fully the little spoon now, arms tightly holding onto Daichi’s chest. He brushes Asahi’s hair back and settles into the bed more comfortably. “I’m always gonna say yes to you.”

* * *

Asahi shuffles his feet, trying his best to bear under Daichi’s assessing gaze. He’s acutely aware of the laced headband framing his face, his dark brown hair meticulously curled by Ushimura-san’s patient hands, and the specially-tailored maid dress hanging over his large frame, the ruffled hem of his starch white skirt flirting over the bared skin of his thighs. A sudden itch runs up his leg and eager for something to do with his wringing hands, Asahi shifts down, bending the best he can without flashing the other customers in the classroom in his admittedly short skirt to scratch at white ruffled stockings slipped over his legs. As his hand skims over the socks, he hears a cut-off noise, and he immediately looks up.

Daichi coughs and looks away just as Asahi catches his eyes, cheeks flushed and mouth pursed in annoyance. It takes him a moment, but his own cheeks burn in embarrassment once he catches on to Daichi’s sudden gruffness. They stand there in stilted silence for a beat, Asahi still half bent over and Daichi steadfastly avoiding his gaze.

“Wow, Azumane-kun, is this your roommate? He’s so handsome,” says one of his club members, Jou-senpai, who pops her head curiously beside them. Asahi straightens at once and chokes in his haste to reply, and Daichi breaks out of his stiff posture to bow politely, the charming smile that makes girls (and Asahi, to be honest) flutter on his face.

“Thank you for taking care of our Asahi-kun here,” Daichi says gamely, eyes darting to Asahi’s flushed face for a moment before looking back at Jou-chan. “I’m Sawamura Daichi, his high school friend.” The girl, a college senior to Asahi’s sophomore, grins widely and loops an arm around Asahi’s shoulders, forcing him to bend at the knees for her comfort. It crushes her sleek butler outfit a little, but Jou-senpai is unbothered, preferring to play with Asahi’s wide ruffled apron.

“Of course, Sawamura-san. Azumane-kun here is such a dear kouhai to all of us here in the cooking club,” Jou-senpai affirms lightly, tweaking the ruffled black sleeve attached to the white armscye of Asahi’s blouse. Daichi mumbles unintelligibly, dazedly following Jou-senpai’s fingers before snapping out of it, unaware of the smirk twitching on her lips. Asahi, though, notices and is suddenly _very_ concerned.

“Ah, Jou-senpai--”

“Why don’t you take a table, Sawamura-san, and we’ll have Azumane-kun here take your order in a minute?” suggests Jou-senpai with a wicked look in her eye. Asahi drops his face into his palms, his cheeks burning fierce against his calluses.

“Oh--uh, no, that’s okay, actually--”

“Nonsense!” she interrupts, stopping Daichi’s hurried babble with a dismissive wave. She pulls away from Asahi, straightening her tailored morning coat and pants, and snaps upright, her change in demeanor instant. Bowing at the waist, she offers a white gloved hand to the direction of an open table near the windows of the classroom. “Okyaku-sama, please, I shall lead you to your table at once.”

Asahi watches through the spaces of his fingers as Daichi’s politely but firmly lead away by Jou-senpai, his words unheeded, and internally groans at his luck. Before he has more time to wallow in his misery and embarrassment, another senpai calls out for him, and he quickly responds and hurries to help, pulling himself back into the mindset of work.

* * *

Daichi has always found Asahi cute, much to the taller boy’s dismay. He maintains it’s not just a ‘oh what an attractive person’ type of cute, though he does often add with a sly grin that it doesn’t hurt that Asahi is easily both. But, it also isn’t the cute in that ‘youthful, delicate girlish person’ way either; actually, Asahi’s been mistaken for a burly hardened biker gang member more times than can be counted on both their hands by now.

Asahi is just… endearing--adorable in the sense that the whole of him is just so easy to love. He always argues otherwise, saying he’s too tall, too old-looking, too _him_ to be allowed anything close to ‘cute’. He brings up how ‘un-ace-like’ Daichi’s always called him, but Daichi just gives him a look and ends the discussion with a soft cuff of the head and a kiss. In truth, Asahi is not necessarily by the conventional means a picture ‘cute’ the way his female classmates would associate with kittens and soft puppies and cuddly pillows. But Daichi thinks of Yui, their classmate who was equally skeptical of her association with the word ‘cute’, and thinks they’re both wrong. Boyish and youthful, full of spirit and vigor, but always so self-conscious and eager to do better--that is how Daichi sees the ‘cute’ Yui and Asahi.

But especially now, with Asahi bent over him, face pink with shivering pleasure and exertion, mouth red and open, puffing soft gasps with each jerk of his hips on Daichi’s cock, Daichi finds Asahi cute. He shifts up against their bed headboard until he can comfortably watch, hands gripping Asahi’s slick hips, urging him with each thrust, as Asahi rides him, thighs shaking.

“You’re so cute,” Daichi murmurs, leaning forward to caress Asahi by the shell of his ear. He hears a whine and feels nails digging into the meat of his shoulder blades, but Daichi only smiles, tugging at an earlobe with light teeth. “It’s true, though, Asahi-chan, you’re really the _cutest_ ever.”

Asahi shudders over him, muscles rippling and pace slowing, and he hides his even redder face against Daichi’s collarbones, huffing wetly with his cock bobbing heavily underneath. “Stop--ungh--stop making fun of me, Dai--”

Daichi takes over, flipping them swiftly so that he’s on top, with Asahi’s thighs pushed up and wrapped around his torso. He bends over and bites him into a kiss, tongue fucking as deeply as his cock pushes, pace languid and thick. Asahi gasps into the kiss, sounds spilling into his lips as he takes it, hands scrabbling to pull Daichi in closer.

“The cutest boy ever to me,” Daichi says in between each thrust, punctuating his words with pleasure and Asahi’s growing moans. He slides a hand down to tweak at dusky nipples, stiff and trembling under his fingers, and Asahi gasps again, jerking surprised hips into Daichi, grinding down. “That’s it, right there for me, so good for me.”

“Dai--dai--dai--” His favorite thing is when Asahi gets to the point where he can only gasp the first sound of his name, the breathy vowels at contrast with his gulps for air. It’s heady, and Daichi can feel himself even harder, cock twitching with arousal. He rewards Asahi with a faster pace, a maddening grind, and Asahi gets unconsciously louder, losing grip on his self-awareness.

“So good, Asahi, always so good to me, I love how you sound for me,” Daichi murmurs, voice gravel and smoke, dipping in for kisses. Asahi’s cock spurts, pre-come spattering over both their stomachs, and Daichi grins into the kiss. “I want to make it so good for you, Asahi, have you come from nothing but me and my tongue. You like that, don’t you, like having me worship you wholly?”

There’s a sharp intake of breath from Asahi and the taste of salt on his tongue, and Daichi knows now that Asahi’s hit the point of tears, and goes faster yet. Asahi’s shaking apart under him, blinking back wet lashes and huffing wet noises, but his grip is tight as ever, his leg muscles swelling as he jerks Daichi into him, grinding his ass into his cock.

“That’s it, Asahi, just like that, sweet, you’re so sweet for me, the sweetest cutest--”

Asahi slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment, tears gripping his cheeks, and Daichi snickers, breath warm and curling over his palm. His other hand pinches the skin between Daichi’s hipbone in revenge and Daichi lets up, kissing over his palm in apology.

“You’re so mean,” Asahi manages, wet and breathy, and Daichi kisses him in response, lips curling in affection as Asahi falls into it without second thought.

“Will you come for me, sweet, just on my cock?” Daichi asks against his lips, fucking even harder into Asahi. He reaches down and slides Asahi’s ass up an angle, and suddenly, Asahi wails broken, eyes bursting open and gasping with new sobs. “That’s it, then, sweet, come for me, so good, so tight so hot, sweet sweet sweet--”

Asahi comes apart, cock jumping spurt after spurt striping over his and Daichi’s bellies, and Daichi just keeps going, so aroused by how responsive Asahi is, and follows after in another few thrusts.

 

When they’re cleaned up and wiped down, Daichi tucks Asahi into the bedding, his body limp and pliant. He has another two hours of studying to get through before he can allow himself sleep, but he’s floating well enough on endorphins that Asahi easily pulls him down into a clumsy embrace.

“Hey, snuggle-monster, you gotta let me go for a bit,” Daichi complains, not at all meaning it and tucking his head under Asahi’s chin for better comfort. Asahi makes a noise and shifts over, smothering him with his blanketed chest. Daichi laughs. “That’s the opposite of letting me go, dummy.”

“Mm, I want a cuddle,” Asahi mumbles, uncharacteristically petulant. He pops his mussed head out of the blankets and stares blearily at Daichi. “I have something to ask you.”

“Well if it’s asking me to carry you to the bathroom, you can forget about it right now,” Daichi jokes, propping himself up with an elbow. He reaches over and twirls a finger into the tangled hair escaping from Asahi’s bird’s nest-do. “But anything else, I’m game.”

Asahi pouts, scrunching his nose up, and Daichi seriously wishes he could take a picture of this moment and hold it over Asahi’s head forever because he’s so fucking _cute_ , it should be illegal. “No, I don’t need you to carry me--I’m heavier than you are, Daichi, I’d hurt your back immediately if you tried--”

“A joke, idiot, it’s a joke--”

“--But I just wanted to know if you were still coming to my university festival next week,” Asahi ends shyly, flicking his eyes down with a flutter of uncommonly long lashes. There’s movement under the blanket, and Daichi is certain that he’s scratching at his scruff under there, a nervous tic. He rolls his eyes and flops over entirely over Asahi’s curled frame, startling the air out of the boy underneath him.

“My answer still hasn’t changed, Asahi, stop worrying about it already,” Daichi says with finality, elbowing Asahi in the gut for emphasis. He listens to him wheeze in response and smiles serenely. “Now shut up and go to sleep, I wanna take a nap before I study some more.”

Asahi grumbles under his breath about Daichi’s weight, but complies.

* * *

Daichi sits quietly, perusing the laminated menus they’d made for the cafe project, and Asahi steels himself before stepping up the table. Surreptitiously adjusting his apron so it sits nicely in the middle, he pulls a wobbly smile and curtesies with a dainty pluck of his skirt. It’s going on past two now, and Asahi’s done this at least two dozen times, but he’s still so unused to showing off his bare legs like this. He sees the quirk of Daichi’s lips as he raises his head from his pose, but he sucks back in the flustered babble he feels burbling in his throat.

“Welcome to Cafe Hiro, okyaku-sama, I will be your attendant for today,” Asahi says instead, trying to maintain an even tone. Instead of fisting his fingers in the cotton fabric of his overskirt and apron, he opts to clasp his hands together in front of him. “How may I serve you today, uh… master?”

Daichi’s eyebrows shoot up, hitting the grown-out bangs he hadn’t had time to cut, and Asahi would laugh if he himself weren’t dying from mortification. “Uh, I’m gonna let you know right off the bat that this is not one of my kinks, just so we’re both clear,” Daichi says seriously, looking Asahi straight in the eye with a blank face.

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Asahi blurts out, breaking his tenuous character and dropping his face into his palms. His cheeks are fire engine red and blistering on his fingers, and he can hear Daichi dissolving into laughter. After a moment, Asahi relaxes and joins in, spilling giggles between his fingers. “I can’t believe this is the situation I’m in right now.”

“Yeah, well, I thought I was gonna come get a snack at a normal club festival thing, not be catered to my wishes by reverse-gender maids and butlers,” Daichi replies after recovering. “I need to be prepared for these kinds of big surprises, Asahi, you know this.”

“It wasn’t my idea!” Asahi defends, holding up his hands. Daichi raised a brow. “Seriously, I thought we were going with a normal themed cafe, and suddenly the week of, I come in and suddenly everyone’s tossing me into dresses left and right!”

“Well, maybe that’s just because you’re so _cute_ ,” Daichi says with a gleam in his eye. Asahi splutters, and he chuckles, waving it away. “Anyway, take my order, maid-sama, before I wither away and die.”

“Just for that, I’m gonna spit in your dish,” Asahi mutters while pulling out the notepad from his apron pocket. Daichi reaches out and flips up his skirt while he’s distracted, and Asahi’s vision is frilly white clouds for a moment before he realizes what’s happened.

“ _SAWAMURA DAICHI!_ ” is shrieked throughout the entire classroom as Asahi’s boxers, a silly pink pair with lazy bear prints, is exposed to everyone around. Daichi, unbothered by the chaos, takes the chance to take a few shots of Asahi in all his undignified glory.

 

Daichi’s omurice comes out from the kitchens a tad crispy, and Asahi takes vindictive pleasure in squirting blotchy uneven letters with his ketchup bottle, ‘ _Sexual Harrassment Devil_ ’, the words splashing onto the table and Daichi’s shirt.

* * *

 

 

 

* * *

(Daichi has Asahi spread out in front of him, his legs open and pushed up and out, thigh muscles sweating, his maid costume bunched up at the waist. Asahi mewls under his massaging hands, whines even for Daichi to return his attention to his hole that he’d been lovingly laving into. Daichi grins, sloppy, and noses into his balls, sucks them into his mouth one at a time to give Asahi some extra pleasure.

“Dai--” Asahi’s voice is tenderly breathy and high, far removed from his burly appearance, and in this dress especially, his maid bonnet askew, and his lashes fluttering, he looks _amazing_.

“You know,” Daichi starts conversationally, licking up trails on Asahi’s leaking cock, tasting the bitter precome with relish. “I thought you looked absolutely adorable today.”

Asahi jerks a hand and hits him weakly, his legs pulling Daichi in even closer at opposite with his response. “You dick,” he breathes out, lips twitching up in a smile before Daichi goes back in, mouth wet and warm against his spasming hole. Daichi laughs, pulling a hand away to insert a finger, tongue slicking the path in. “Oh oh oh--”

“Such a cute maid,” Daichi asserts, pumping his fingers in and out, grinning at Asahi’s attempted eyeroll before he shakes apart under his hands. “The cutest maid there, I’ll even bet.”

“Sh-shut up, Dai--” He jerks, riding his fingers and tongue greedily, words trailing off as he chases after his pleasure, and Daichi can’t help but probe into him extra deep as reward.)

 

 

 

((Asahi wakes up to ten different texts from their former Karasuno teammates, ranging from “Nice duds, man” to “HOLY SHIT ASAHI-SAN WHATS GOING ON”. He stares at the screen for a minute, processing, and then shouts as loud as possible.

“DAICHI I’M GOING TO _KILL_ YOU!”

Meanwhile, in Econometrics, Daichi sneezes suddenly and wipes away at any snot with his sleeve. A buzz vibrates in his pant pocket, and he sneaks a look at the rambling professor before pulling it out.

 _ **god of handchops** 10:36AM_  
Asahi’s awake

Daichi grins, and quickly thumbs out a text.

 _ **god of handchops** 10:37AM_  
Well i don’t think he’s taken it very well considering he’s at my apartment crying into his hands

 _ **god of handchops** 10:37AM_  
You should probably say sorry or something

 _ **god of handchops** 10:37AM_  
Nice job on the pictures tho i think yachi-chans blowing up our facebook chat with ideas of making a scrapbook

 _ **god of handchops** 10:38AM_  
She wants to use asahi as her next model for her spring collection

 _ **god of handchops** 10:38AM_  
Something abt asahi straddling that line of masculine and femminity while maintain that aura of ‘’’’raw’’’’ness

At that last text, Daichi’s brows raise up to his hairline. Asahi wasn’t going to be happy with this.))

**Author's Note:**

> listen all i wanted was for asahi to be in a dress and to cry for me bc it gives me Joy in life. it got a little out of hand but in the end, even the filth life rejected me and spat me back out of its hellmouth. anyway its been a very long time since ive written anything and it shows in this fic :( :( :( but i tried and maybe this will get me out of my slump!!!!
> 
> thanks 2 whit for being my handholder and HEY SOPHIA I FCKING WROTE THE DAMN FIC EAT DICK!!!!!! jk also this fic is dedicated to sophie bc of that one tweet thread she did in like 2015????? abt wanting asahi/daichi and i never delivered even tho i wanted to so here's something????????????


End file.
